


Every Second Is A Highlight

by mermaidforeachother



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adrienne "touches ur shoulders" Agreste, Adrienne agreste - Freeform, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Borderline crack, F/F, Fluff and Humor, giftfic, locker room shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-04
Updated: 2016-04-04
Packaged: 2018-05-31 03:55:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6454672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mermaidforeachother/pseuds/mermaidforeachother
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Changing clothes for gym should be a simple affair for Marinette.<br/>Nothing is as simple as it should be when her brain turns to mush around Adrienne.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Every Second Is A Highlight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [midnightdrops](https://archiveofourown.org/users/midnightdrops/gifts).



> Un-beta'd.  
> Written for my friend midnightdrops, who pulled me so deep into discussion about Adrien being a girl that I couldn't possibly not write this. Apologies ahead of time for any mistakes as this was written mostly after 1am.  
> Rated T just to be safe, really.  
> Title from "Domino" by Jessie J:  
> "Every second is a highlight/when we touch/don't ever let me go"

 A heart attack.

She was going to have a heart attack.

Her- Marinette- a healthy 15-year-old girl, regularly active and not easy to genuinely scare. (She was, after all, a literal superhero when the need arose.) Nonetheless, here she was, heart thumping so strongly, so loudly, in her chest, she was certain it’s staccato could be heard throughout all of Paris, the ventricular muscle doing nothing more than trying to jump out of it’s safe and cozy space nestled within the cage of her ribs and run a cross-country marathon, surely. The rest of her was not doing much better; in contrast to her rapidly beating heart, the remaining musculature of her body seemed determined to seize up and turn her to stone- the expression on her face unable to decide whether it wanted to be embarrassed or terrified, settling on a mixture of both which made the young girl look more like a scared robot than a human. Marinette was certain, as well, that the heat she was suddenly filled with was visible not only on her burning cheeks, but down her neck and chest as well, visible from the top of her bra upwards as she stood wide-eyed and rooted to the floor of the girls’ locker room, half undressed.   
  
And it was all Adrienne’s fault.    
  
Which, these days, most cases of frantic babbling and bumbling, or otherwise mortifyingly spazztastic behavior, were precisely due to the young model. It was always Adrienne’s fault, though Marinette would never in a million years go so far as to blame her for it! No! The reactions were _Marinette’s_ fault, but the reason behind them was indisputably Adrienne. Sweet, charming, beautiful, _perfect_ , Adrienne.

 

Who had no idea what she did to Marinette’s poor, unprepared soul with her words and her eyes.  
  
They were SUPPOSED to be getting ready for gym class, and she was... at first.   
  
The girls of her class had filed into the locker room like usual, everybody chatting casually about projects, teachers, or weekend plans. Her best friend, Alya not far behind her, recounting this week’s Akuma attack and the subsequent battle and purification by Ladybug and Chat Noire.  
  
“I’m telling you, Marinette, I’ve never seen someone use a traffic cone like that! It was amazing!”

  
“Mhm, it sounds like an awesome battle! Did you get it all on video?”

 

 They both opened their side-by-side lockers at the same time, pulling out their gym bags to get changed, Marinette studiously pretending she wasn’t at the fight as Ladybug, and didn’t fact, see her best friend with her cell phone out recording the whole time.  
  
“Girl, you _know_ I did! I could never let the world forget the day that Ladybug muzzled a rampaging wolf with a traffic cone!”  
  
“I’m not sure if that akuma counts as a rampaging wolf.” Said Marinette, doubtfully.

 Not technically, anyway. The Akuma victim had been a down-on-their-luck fursuit enthusiast whose headgear had been possessed after a fallout with one of their friends just hours before an Anthro-con. Much like when she and Chat had fought the Animan, this led to various animal-themed dangers, only more cartoonish in nature than the released zoo animals of the shapeshifting Akuma.

“If it has teeth like a wolf, a tail like a wolf, and growls like a wolf, then it’s a wolf.” Stated Alya matter-of-factly as she carefully folded her glasses and put them down on the bench behind her so she could pull her shirts over her head in one swift removal of layers, leaving her standing in her jeans and black sports bra.  
  
“By that logic, Alya, Chat Noire must be an actual cat, and Ladybug must be an actual bug.” The black haired girl, countered. To that, Alya shrugged.  
  
“Maybe they’re just furries, too.”   
  
Marinette let out a gasp, “Alya!”

The ombre haired brunette leaned down and tugged off her tennis shoes and shrugged once more.  
“They could be low-key furries for all we know, Mari. With superpowers. Wouldn’t that actually be kind of cool?”  
The other girl gaped. “I think there’s been enough furries with superpowers!” Marinette stage whispered to her smirking best friend as she swiftly divested herself of her black jacket and pulled her white, flowered, shirt over her head. Tikki was in her purse, already tucked safely away in her locker with her phone wi-fi enabled in case she got bored.   
  
“I’m just saying” Alya continued, ignoring her friend’s violent removal of her shoes by way of kicking the heels swift enough for them to fly off her feet into the metal lockers, hitting them with a reverberating bang, “As a future world-famous journalist, it’s my job to consider every possibility to a story.”  
  
“You can definitely be trusted to be thorough.” She conceded, silently thinking of all the times the girl beside her came within hair's-breadth of figuring out her secret identity. One slip up from her on either side of the mask, and she knew, just knew, that the spunky girl would exert every ounce of effort she could pull from her body and chase after that tiny bit of information like a bloodhound all the way back to her lying, spotted friend.  
  
Marinette swallowed the guilt she felt about all of the little, necessary lies that went into being one of the superheroines of Paris, and pulled her pink capris off. That was the moment she heard a low whistle and a short round of applause from Alya.  
  
“You look so cute! Where’d you get it?!”  
  
Marinette turned, a question in her eyes. The brunette had already donned her gym shorts, and she was standing still with her gym shirt in one hand, with her other resting on her hip, staring at Marinette with friendly appreciation.  
  
“Your underwear! Where’d you get it? It’s like, super cute, girl!”  
  
“Oh!” She exclaimed, “That! I don’t know? My mom picked it out for me because I was busy with all of our homework last week.”  
  
“The French essay, right?” Marinette nodded, her pigtails bouncing with the movement. Well, homework, and stopping an akumatized cheese monger from trampling citizens with gigantic wheels of Brie and Parmesan.  (Her partner had seemed especially put off by the Akuma’s method of attack, making disgusted faces at every turn, and even kept the cheesy puns to a minimum during the fight, eager to be done with it quickly. )

  
 Alya’s face twisted up in disgust, ”Ugh, I know right? I should have picked a different topic for mine- Voltaire wrote too damn much.”  
 Alya finally pulled her shirt over her head and settled her glasses upon her face, and Marinette took the lull in the conversation as an opportunity to pull her gym shorts on.  
  
   She thought over what Alya had said about her underwear and silently decided that she agreed- the matching bra and panty combo _were_ pretty cute. They were a light blue which complimented the azure of her eyes without washing her out, and the bra had scrolling flower embroidery on the bottoms of the cups in satin thread a darker blue than the material. The embroidery curved around the cups, coming to a stop halfway to the top, giving the appearance of the flowers making an ocean. The top edges of the bra were lined with a soft blue lace that also appeared on top of the bra straps and along the waistband of the matching panties. A tiny blue bow was sewn in between the cups of the bra, nestled against her sternum. Undeniably, the set was cute. Like, really, really cute.  Even better, she _felt_ cute while wearing it as well. The crème-de-la-crème, however, was that it was supremely comfortable to wear as well, the panties were a soft, silky cotton, and the bra was not only padded just the right amount, but also possessed convertible straps, so she could wear it as a cross-back bra if she wanted to. Which she wanted to- she could never predict when an Akuma would attack and Marinette wanted optimal support no matter what.  
  
Shorts now on, Marinette reminded herself to thank her mother for having such good taste.   
  
“Wow!” Exclaimed a heart achingly familiar voice. Marinette clocked out from her own little world and looked up to see one Adrienne Agreste, already dressed for gym class walking towards her. The part time superheroine could swear that somewhere on Earth, a storm just abated; with that one word, the dark clouds reigning over some soaked and gloomy town just parted and made way for sunshine and balmy weather thanks to the blonde’s naturally dulcet tone.  
  
“Alya’s totally right,” said Adrienne, her medium length hair pulled back into a braid in preparation for the sports they would be practicing today in class somehow managed to shine golden even under the less than flattering lighting of the girls’ locker room. “Your underwear is very cute!” The model said with a thumbs up and a playful wink of a sparkling emerald eye. 

 

Marinette stood frozen to her spot staring dumbly, a blush slowly creeping onto her face as she tried to process the fact that Adrienne, the “I wanna marry her and own a hamster with”  Adrienne just complimented her underwear. Logically, she knew it wasn’t a big deal. She, herself, complimented Alya’s underwear plenty of times, and any of the other girls in the class (save for Chloé, but Chloé only ever compliments herself to begin with ) saying the very same things would not immediately stop all of Marinette’s brain functions, and of course, Adrienne was nice to literally everyone in their class, but the sheer fact that she had been noticed- that she was actually a blip on Adrienne’s radar seemed significant, and her state of undress suddenly became more intimate than the casual affair of changing clothes was intended to be.  
  
Alya subtly coughed and nudged her friend sharply to get her to respond, and the raven haired girl managed to squeak out a stiff, high-pitched, “Thanks!”  
  
Adrienne smiled softly, “You’re welcome! I actually have a set just like it at home, so-”  
  
Marinette cut her off, blurting out, “Y-you do?!”  
  
The blonde’s smile dropped in surprise at the other girl’s outburst, then reappeared, a little unsure. “Yeah, I do...I’m sorry, was that weird to say?”  Her arm raised up to rub the back of her neck as she looked down at Marinette, studying the shorter girl’s expression for unease.

 

Marinette, of course, was still too busy planning their future wedding to find anything Adrienne said unusual.  
 “H-huh? No, no, no, no, o-of course not! If anything, you could be weirder- say weirder things!”  
Alya hung back beside her locker with a small smirk on her face, far be it from her to interrupt the chance for romance, or in Marinette’s case, a coherent conversation, to bloom.  
  
Taking the opening, Adrienne asks, “Like what?”   
  
Clearly having not thought it through, the shorter girl stumbles through her response, eyes darting everywhere but Adrienne’s eyes as she searched for the right words, “I-uh-you could...say tongue twisters instead of “Hello!”

 

A soft chuckle escaped the blonde’s cupid bow lips. “Maybe I should try it sometime?” In truth, her life was already weirder than anyone would ever be able to guess. But being the unluckier half of Paris’ famous superheroine duo couldn’t count when Adrienne made sure she was as normal and polite as she could possibly be in her civilian life. Scaring away the first friends she ever made besides Chloé was very high on her list of “Things I never want to do”, so she was extra careful to not be perceived as rude. 

“You could say goodbye with nursery rhymes!” Marinette added on.  
  
The warning bell for the class started ringing, and Adrienne looked back towards the gymnasium doors before locking eyes with Marinette.  
“Oh.” She gestured backwards with a thumb, “I should let you finish getting dressed.”  
  
The dark haired girl simply nodded quickly, filled with pure disbelief that she had managed to talk to her crush for so long.  
  
“I really do have the same set of underwear,” Adrienne blurted out uncharacteristically. She laid a gentle hand on Marinette’s nearly bare shoulder and smiled, “I think it looks better on you, though.”  She had bought the set because the blue embroidery was the exact same shade of sky-blue as her Lady’s eyes, but found when wearing it, the base color washed out her skin too much to enjoy it as much as she wanted to. On Marinette, though, it was somehow perfect. Feminine and bright, it matched her personality and her looks.  
  
Taking her hand from the other girl’s shoulder, she waved goodbye as she started to walk away. “See you in class, guys!”  
  
A heart attack.  
   
Marinette was going to have a heart attack. Right after she put her shirt on.  
  
Alya finally stepped up from her place at her locker and whispered excitedly, “Good job not exploding, Mari!”  
  
Feeling the heat encompass practically her whole body due to the conversation, Marinette replies weakly, “I still might, Alya..”  
  
“No way! Then how will I ever get to be your maid of honor at your dream wedding with Adrienne?”

   
  
The ombre haired girl cleared her throat and announced in a gruff voice, “Here lies Marinette Dupain-Cheng; whose soul left her body the day she found out she wears the same underwear as her crush.”  
  
Marinette chuckled and slipped her feet into the shoes she had kicked off against her locker. They would be the last two out to class, but Marinette was used to being tardy at this point. Instead of replying to Alya, she sighed dazedly and looked towards the doors to the gym, thinking of green eyes sparkling like jewels above a shy smile, and the soft touch of a hand she knew to be much stronger than it looked.

These were _definitely_ her lucky underwear from now on. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I actually looked up anthrocons in Paris, and couldn't personally find anything, so that's probably very inaccurate.  
> You can find me on tumblr at: thatwasyoursoupipoisoned.tumblr.com


End file.
